


too close for comfort

by moonlitserenades



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Connor is physically incapable of not swearing, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitserenades/pseuds/moonlitserenades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the hell were you doing?” he demands, and Oliver takes a moment to wonder if he actually had been hit by the truck and is now existing in some sort of celestial alternate realm where people this mind-meltingly hot willingly speak to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too close for comfort

Oliver Hampton has never been good at multi-tasking. He knows this. Chewing gum and walking? Cool. Got it. Anything even a modicum more complex, though, not so much. Having lived twenty-some-odd years on this planet at this point makes him used to it, which means most of the time he doesn’t even bother to try.

“Most” being the operative word, of course. 

Thing is, the coding book he’d just bought had looked so interesting that he’d sat down in the Barnes & Noble intending to read it, only then he’d gotten kicked out. Which was stupid, really, because what were the couches there for if not to sit and read? But, well...it is sort of late, and he guesses it’s possible that they’d been trying to close up for the night. 

And it wasn’t like he was going to spend the whole walk back to his place with his face buried in the book. But he’d been forced to leave so close to the end of the chapter that he figured there would be no harm in reading the last half a page while he walked. After all, it’s not like walking is something he has to expend a particularly large amount of mental energy to do. 

Except, he’d forgotten about other people. So when he reaches the crosswalk, he spares the road the briefest of glances before stepping out and starting to walk--

\--only to hear a loud honk and a series of swear words--

\--and to feel a hand fist itself in the back of his windbreaker and yank, hard, so that he goes reeling backward into the person behind him--

\--and to feel an entirely terrifying woosh of air as a literal eighteen-wheeler goes speeding by where he’d been standing only moments ago.

Oliver’s book now lies crumpled on the asphalt so that he can clutch both hands to his chest, gasping and trembling. “Oh my God,” he manages, turning on shaky legs to face his savior. 

“What the hell were you doing?” he demands, and Oliver takes a moment to wonder if he actually had been hit by the truck and is now existing in some sort of celestial alternate realm where people this mind-meltingly hot willingly speak to him. He doesn’t wait for Oliver to respond, just continues his diatribe. “Seriously, what the _fuck,_ you really couldn’t have waited the extra five minutes to read your little nerd book? Like would it have been worth it, if you had ended up splattered all over that guy’s windshield, because I personally _really think not._ I don’t know if it didn’t occur to you what a shame it would have been for someone so stupidly adorable to die, but it sure as shit occurred to me, so you know what, just. Pay attention where you’re going next time, please. Because I am not going to be there to save your cute ass every time you decide you can’t be bothered to look for traffic.”

Oliver’s beleaguered mind takes several seconds to catch up with all of this, and eventually he opens his mouth intending to say thank you, but what comes out instead is, “You think I’m adorable?” 

The guy, now that he’s had a little time to calm down, blinks, and his demeanor visibly changes. “Uh, yeah. When was the last time you looked in a mirror?” He smirks, a flash of mischief in those dark eyes now.

“Um,” Oliver manages, with a weak laugh. “I mean. I. Uh. Adorable.”

The guy laughs through his nose and bends down to pick Oliver’s book off the ground. Oliver is immediately positive that he has done this to show off his ass (which looks amazing in those jeans, holy shit), especially when he looks up with something of a smoulder before straightening and looking down at the title. “Coding,” he says, as though it’s some kind of disgusting swear word. “You have got to get out more.”

“It’s interesting,” says Oliver defensively, folding his arms.

“I’m serious,” the guy says, handing over the book and letting his fingers linger much longer than necessary against Oliver’s. “We should go get a coffee or something. You’re still shaking and I could...help you relax.”

There’s a definitive innuendo there. Oliver bites his lip and weighs his options. This takes approximately 0.2 seconds.

“Yes. Let’s.”


End file.
